


Haunted

by truth_renowned



Series: One-Word Prompts [23]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:39:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truth_renowned/pseuds/truth_renowned
Summary: Peggy and Daniel's son has a Halloween emergency.





	Haunted

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the 2017 Inktober prompt 'haunted'.

“Mummy, I need a costume.”

Peggy looked up from her paperwork and saw her six-year-old son, Michael, in the kitchen doorway.

“Very well,” she said. “We’ll call your Aunt Ana and she will make you whatever you want. We have until the thirty-first.”

“No, it’s for the class play,” he said. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!” Peggy calmed herself and her voice. “Tomorrow? Michael, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Michael shrugged, a hint of wavering in his bottom lip. “Forgot.”

Peggy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The Jarvises were out of town and not due back for several days. What in the bloody hell was she going to do? She couldn’t make a costume. She hadn’t sewn anything since she was a little girl. Even then she hated it, always ending up with crooked stitches and needle-pricked fingers, but her mum insisted it was what every proper young lady should do. Did she even have any sewing materials in the house?

Her eyebrows arched as she thought about Daniel. He could figure something out. She promptly walked to the phone and dialed his office number.

“Sousa,” he answered.

“Daniel, your son needs a costume.”

She heard nothing but faint static for several seconds, so long a silence that she thought he had hung up on her.

“Daniel?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And what? Ask Ana make him a costume.”

“Two problems. One, he needs it for tomorrow. Two, Ana is out of town.”

He was silent again for several seconds before he said, “I’m not sure what you want me to do about it.”

“How long are you going to be?”

“A few hours at least.” He sighed. “Peggy, it’s a costume. How hard can it be? You’re the director of a covert agency. This will be easy as pie.”

“I don’t bake pies,” she said wryly.

“No, but you can do anything you put your mind to. Look at what SHIELD has become.”

Her eyes narrowed. He was buttering her up. 

She heard muted shouting over the phone, then, “Peg, I have to go. We’re about to head out and run a scenario. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

She heard the click in her ear, then sighed heavily. A costume. What in the world was she going to do?

She looked at Michael, and her heart melted. He had the same puppy-dog eyes his father had, and they worked on her just as well as Daniel’s. She knew exactly what she was going to do.

“So, what kind of costume do you need, Poppet?”

Michael shrugged again. “Dunno. Mrs. Schumer said we need a costume.”

“What is the play about?”

“Halloween,” he said.

Well, that was vague, which she supposed was good in that she wasn’t tied to a specific character. What could she do that didn’t require sewing? Or a pattern? Or anything having to do with needle and thread? There must be something…

Peggy smiled and rushed toward the hall closet, whipping open the door. She searched the shelves and found exactly what she needed: a white sheet. She grabbed it and arrived back in the kitchen, finding Michael still in the doorway.

She retrieved a pair of shears and a marker from a drawer, then turned to her son.

“Come here,” she said. 

As soon as he stood in front over her, she slipped the sheet over his head. She felt where his eyes would be, then drew two circles. Taking the sheet from around him, she cut eye holes in the sheet, a bit crooked but they would do. She dropped the sheet over his head again, aligned the eye holes, then smiled.

“There. You’re a ghost.”

It wasn’t the most original idea but it would work. No sewing, no patterns, no fuss, no muss. No creativity, either, but she ignored that thought. 

Michael tried to take a step forward but stumbled, tripped up by the long sheet.

“Oh,” Peggy said. “We’ll fix that.”

With the shears, she walked around him in a circle, cutting the sheet’s length until his shoes barely peeked out from underneath. When she was done, he started walking around, saying “Boo” in as deep a voice as he could muster. She held back giggles.

Before she could catch him, he accidentally bumped into the kitchen counter, and he whined, “I can’t see.”

As he turned to face her, she saw the problem: The sheet had moved so that the holes weren’t over his eyes anymore. Peggy tapped her finger to her chin. There had to be a way to secure the sheet so it would not move so much. She had some belts, but a little boy didn’t want to wear a woman’s belt. Maybe one of Daniel’s? No, it wouldn't fit a six-year-old. What could she do...

With a gasp, she ran into her and Daniel’s bedroom and flung open the closet door. She found one of Daniel’s ties, and at the last second, she grabbed one of his fedoras. An old briefcase caught her eye, and she grabbed that as well, hoping there were no SHIELD documents inside. She’d have to check that later.

She rushed back into the kitchen and placed the tie around her son’s neck, tying a rough knot. Daniel would have to improve upon it when he got home, but what she had done served its purpose: the sheet wasn’t moving. She put the hat on his head, which was comically too big for him but didn't obscure his eyes, and then put the briefcase next to him.

“You’re a daddy ghost,” Peggy said with a satisfied nod.

Michael’s head tilted to one side, then the other, as if contemplating the idea. Finally, he nodded and picked up the briefcase.

He started to walk away, then stopped. “I need lines.”

She caught her sigh before it came out. The costume wasn’t enough?

“Lines of what, dear?” she asked calmly.

“Lines. Di-a-logue.”

A smirk pulled at her lips. Whenever Angie visited, she and Michael would put on short plays for them, making up characters and improvising lines as they went along. He must have picked up ‘dialogue’ from her.

“Well,” Peggy said, “you’re a daddy ghost and you have to go to work, just like your daddy does.”

“Okay." After several seconds of silence, in a voice suspiciously like Daniel’s but much higher, he said, “Honey, where is the Henderson Industrial case file?”

She laughed; Daniel had asked that exact question that morning. Her smile quickly faded as she realized what he’d said. It wouldn’t do to have Michael talking about case files in front of his teacher. Mrs. Schumer thought Peggy was a secretary and Daniel was in sales. They would need to be more careful about what they said around their son. His little Daniel-esque ears were picking up more than they thought.

“Let’s not talk about case files. What about making up another name? Like when you and Aunt Angie make up character names. And let’s call it a file folder instead.”

His sheet-covered head nodded, and after a few seconds, he said in a deeper voice, “I am a daddy ghost. I’m late for work. Honey, where is that Martinelli file folder? I need it for my meeting.”

She laughed again. He was paying tribute to Angie, which was very fitting.

“Perfect,” she said.

He hugged the briefcase. “I like this. Thank you, Mummy.” 

“You’re welcome, Poppet.”

He then marched off toward his bedroom, saying his lines again, doing his best to make his voice even deeper.

Peggy allowed herself a congratulatory smile. Daniel was right. She _could_ do anything she put her mind to. She had averted several crises at work, but somehow she knew that averting the Great Halloween Costume Crisis of 1955 would be some of her best work.


End file.
